Everything Else
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Paul consider's his current standing in life and finds it, though at times monotonous, also the best it ever has been. - One-shot.


For the stereo to be blasting hardcore metal, the gym seemed rather still. To Paul at least. As he sat there, on one of the benches, doing dumbbell reps, his vision into the mirror was less focused on himself and more on the reflection of playpen, where his daughter seemed to be snoozing. Bluto, his mastiff, laid before it, chewing absently at one of his squeaky toys.

The day felt so laid back.

He was in the midst of his rehabbing stint for his second quad tear and life was pretty bleak. He had intensive rehabbing in the morning, a few hours to himself, then either gym stuff with a trainer or solo, some days, at his home gym. He was having one of the latter that day and, honestly, kinda liked it in some ways. Stephanie would still be at work, so he could just send the nanny home and be by himself in the house for a bit, with his dog and baby.

It was relaxing.

Not that everything was calm the entire time, however. Even though she was usually at ease with her father's music (so long as it wasn't _too_ loud), his baby was eventually disturbed by a particular clash of cymbals that were not at all on Steph's suggested listening for their child.

She wasn't full out sobbing over it. Just wiggling around and whining, hardly loud enough for him to notice. In the mirror Paul watched as Bluto stood up, bothered by the baby's noises, and pressed his head into the mesh siding of the playpen, seemingly checking on her. That's what Steph say. Would gush.

Aw, look at Bluto.

Paul refused to aw until the damn dog managed to actually calm Aurora down.

He finished off that set of reps before he got to his feet, sweaty and gross, to go deal with his daughter. Bluto, fearful he'd been the reason the child was so disturbed and it might get him kicked outside, ran from Paul even though he wasn't coming for him, dashing off to another part of the gym.

Bending over, Paul let out a short breath as he lifted his squirming daughter in his arms. She wasn't calmed just by his presence, but did cuddle against his sweat soaked shirt.

"What's wrong, Rora? Huh?" Bouncing her gently, he patted at his daughter's back as he went to shut off the stereo, hoping this would calm her down. "You don't wanna listen to Fear Factory? Is it too loud? Huh? I kept it low for you. But not low enough? I ruin nap time, baby?"

He hoped not. She was down to, for the most part, only taking one nap recently which was great, in some ways, as it gave him more of a chance to play with her before she went to bed, but he was kind of in the middle of a workout…

Turning off the music did a good job of soothing the baby, at least, but she only became extremely clingy. He tried to put her back in her playpen, but she stayed latched onto him and whined at the attempt.

"Rora," he complained as she nuzzled against him. "Don't whine. Daddy's busy. And I'm stinky. Am I not stinky to you? Hmmm? Shouldn't your little baby nose be more susceptible to that sort thing? Huh? Or am I just always stinky? Is that it? You're hurtin' my feelin's."

He could have sat her down, honestly, as now her whines were certainly just for attention and, if he sat her down, eventually she'd either go back to her nap or play with some of her toys. But…

Going back to sit on the bench, he held Aurora in his lap, the little girl patting at his chest, giggling at how sticky his shirt was from his sweat.

"I'mma have to bathe you now too, you know," he grumbled to her. "Before your mother gets home. She gets upset when you're filthy. But you like bein' filthy, huh? Huh?"

She was babbling some stuff to him then, but Paul hardly listened. He'd get pumped about her random babbles at times, knowing they were only edging closer to her first real, actual word, but his excitement came and went. At the moment, he was a bit annoyed, about her interrupting his workout, and also kind of tired, just from his day in general.

Bluto was coming over then, to investigate, and took Aurora's attention. She was giggling as he licked at her face, patting at the animal in return.

Pretty soon, Paul was going to have to start working in the ring again. Soon. At the moment, he had a return slated for August and, it being May, he only had a short amount of time to get back in fighting shape.

If he wanted to get back in the ring, that is.

Sighing as he leaned down to snuggle his sweaty head against his daughter's, he hardly even flinched as she pulled at his hair. She made a loud noise though that made him wince. It was mixture between her laugh and scream. Really shrill. Steph-like, he thought.

"You cannot," he grumbled softly to his little baby, "be enjoying this."

Oh, but she could. Unlike her quickly becoming pessimistic father, it was the little things for Aurora.

Other than days where she was cranky, feeling under the weather, or just felt like being whiny. On those days, watch out.

"I'm all stinky and sticky and nasty," Paul listed, clicking his tongue at each word. "You can't like that."

She thought he smelled like Bluto. And she loved Bluto.

"I don't even feel like it anyways, really, Rora," he admitted with a sigh as she tugged at some more strands of his far too long hair. The way she saw it, if he didn't want it pulled, he'd cut it. "Working out. Today. I just… I've felt out of it. The past few days."

Bluto gave up on regaining Aurora's attention (her father's hair was far too distracting) and fell to the floor before his father, head resting on the man's foot, getting his slobber all over his shoes. Paul didn't even lift his foot to knock him off. Just glanced down at him with a sigh.

"You too, buddy?" Finally tired of his hair getting tugged on, Paul used his free hand to tickle at his baby's tummy, eliciting some of that shrill laughter and causing her to pat at his hand. Hair free, the man shook his head before letting out a long sigh again, making sure to breathe on Aurora and get some more giggles out of her. It worked. Still not amused by this, he said, "Rora, you might be the only happy person here."

Which wasn't really true. Not wholly. Paul was in no way unhappy to get to spend the day with his dog and daughter. It was the way it was supposed to be.

Paul leaning down to gently rub his head against his baby's got the loudest laugh out of her and disturbed the ever restless Bluto, who got to his feet once more to try again to give her enough kisses to shut her up. For some reason this time, Aurora's attention was captured and she forgot about her father, leaning over in his lap (with one of his arms wrapped around her, of course, to support her) so that she could try lean into the dog's licks.

"Calm down," Paul grumbled though he wasn't certain if this command was to his still hardly communicative daughter or his obviously never going to understand much dog.

He decided the dog.

It had been something that Steph accused Paul of at times, his caution with his daughter and dog. He liked Bluto enough. He loved the dog. He was the best dog he'd ever owned. Trained well, very loyal to his wife (and him, sort of, but certainly more her), and just an all around great dog.

But he was still that. A dog. An animal. And animals were pretty predictable, but not completely. And that freaked Paul out a bit.

A lot of things freaked him out, honestly, when it came to Aurora.

That's probably why he was so glad that he had her after he'd done pretty well for himself. For the obvious reasons, of course, as before he had, there was no Steph and he'd be having a kid with someone completely different, but also because he and Steph had been able to afford a very nice tour bus that Aurora would travel with them on, when they were on the road. He liked that. A lot. Having her there, with him, instead of at home, spending all that time with someone else.

It also gave him a chance to watch over her.

Because, heck, she'd be a year old soon and he was still so nervous about the little things.

Like the dog. Even taking out his hulking mouth that could easily clamp down on his baby's head, the big lummox could accidentally roll over on Aurora (he had a tendency of just plopping down wherever he saw fit) and hurt her. If not worse.

It was just best, Paul frequently found, for her to sit in his lap when the dog was around.

Or when anything was around.

He'd really taken to being a father. That's what Stephanie liked to tell him. Or tell her mother. Or his mother. Or anyone. Steph just liked to talk. Mostly about him. The woman loved him. A lot.

Paul found that he agreed though, albeit silently. He had taken to it. Fatherhood was never something he'd taken lightly. It was something he wanted. And while, originally, he saw himself as completely retired from the ring when he got around to it, being able to truck Aurora around with him was even better. Then he wasn't giving up one love for another; they were both coexisting perfectly.

Until… Until he blew his quad.

Now he was home with her and the road was a nonissue. It was Stephanie that he saw the least of, missed out on time with. Not his baby. If anything, he and Aurora were spending more time together than ever.

Bluto's kisses got to be a bit much, it seemed, as the baby's laughter slowly turned to sobs and her pats were shoves, trying to get him away from her. The dog was good at taking a hint (her giggles might be shrill, but they held nothing on her cries) and bowed his head, backing up from the pair a bit, while the girl's father only moved to lift her in the air.

"Rora," he sighed as he held her up to his lips so that he could kiss the side of her head. "Knock it off."

She didn't wanna. At all. Now his stench wasn't comforting and his sweaty nasty hair was gross and making her gross and that was just overall gross.

The whole situation had gone south and it was his job to fix it.

Figuring he'd done enough for the day down in the gym anyways, Paul took Bluto and Aurora with him to the kitchen, where the dog collapsed on the cool tile floor and he made his baby a bottle. It kept her distracted long enough for him to take a shower, her mostly finished with the thing by the time he got back to where he left her in her crib.

"Is it empty?" he asked as, excited to see him again, she waved the bottle at him, sitting up in her crib. It wasn't a place she liked much and the baby gave him some of those excited laughs when he wen to lift her out of it. "You drink all your milk?"

If her beating her bottle against his cheek was any sort of affirmation, she definitely had.

They spent a good chunk of the rest of the afternoon in there. Her bedroom. Playing, mostly, with her toys down on her floor. She really liked for him to rub stuffed animals in her face and talk in a real high pitched voice he wouldn't use if Steph were home. Oh, and throwing things. She wasn't too good at this yet (honestly, not at all), but she liked to pick up a block and kind of toss it. So long as she didn't hit him in the eye (he frequently found himself lying on his back on the floor during their play, trying not to be too bored), Paul was pretty okay with this.

Life was boring though. Then. A good kind. A content kind. But still so.

You could get into a lull at times, on the road, but at least it was still a bit hectic. Unpredictable. Staying home with the baby all day while working out when he wasn't could get...monotonous to say the least.

He didn't _hate_ being there though. At home. He hated not wrestling and he hated feeling useless and, of course, he hated being told he couldn't do what he wanted, but at the same time…

When his first quad blew, back in '01, things were different. Times were different. His relationships were different. He'd just ended a long term relationship to enter a tentative one with Steph, the company was in a bit of a flux considering the closure of those around it, and he was just a different person back then. How could he not be? He was still looking out for number one. Now he was closer to number three with his baby and his wife ranking above him leaving his wants and needs to only be met following theirs.

He was older too. That was a big one. One that Steph didn't mention when she reminded him how he'd come back from a quad tear before or that Shawn didn't bring up on the phone when they grumbled over just when he'd be getting back and they could bring their neo DX run to a true end.

But it was the truth. And a very big factor in it all too. His body wasn't going to bounce back as easily as it had eight years ago and there was nothing he could do about it.

This bothered him, as it typically did, for the majority of the day. He was still thinking about it as he laid in bed, headphones in, when Steph got home.

"You two comfortable?" she asked as he tugged one of the earphones out off his ear, just to hear her. "Babe?"

She was talking about Aurora, who was snuggled down on his stomach, snoozing silently (while drooling a bit, at times), and had no plans of moving.

"Very," he said as Steph flicked on the overhead light. Squinting, he asked, "How was work?"

"It was work."

"You don't got nothing to bitch to me about?"

"I never bitch, Paul."

"Right. Because fish never fish. They swim."

"...Are you calling me a bit-"

"Tell me how your day was, baby," he cut her off. It was better than where that question was headed. "In full detail. Beginning to end."

"Okay," he heard Steph call slowly from the bathroom, where she'd headed after dropping her purse at the foot of their bed. "Well, when I got to work-"

"No, no, no." With one hand he switched the song on his mp3 player and the other he gently patted Aurora on the back. "I said the beginning. Like the very beginning."

"What? At home?"

"Yeah. When I woke you up this morning, getting out of bed."

"Why do you wanna hear about that?"

"Did you miss the part where I'm in the story?"

She'd closed the bathroom door behind her, but even with one ear getting blasted with heavy metal, he still heard his wife's giggle.

"I was being serious," he grumbled softly as Aurora shifted on his stomach, letting out a pitiful snore. "Stephie."

But he wasn't loud enough for her to hear and, when she said no more, he reached down to stroke his baby's back a bit for her and wait for her mother. It took a bit, as Stephanie wanted to shower, apparently, which he felt was a bit rude, in the middle of a conversation and all, but what could you do?

Other than wait. And wait. When she finally came out, it was to get dressed quickly and leave the room, only stopping to lean down and press a kiss first to the back of Aurora's sleeping head and then his very awake one.

"I think she ditched us for that dog," he muttered to his daughter. "You notice he didn't follow her in here? She probably let him outside to use the bathroom and is off to go find him. You know, after I gave her him, she almost didn't even wanna try for you. But me? I always wanted you. I- Okay," he conceded as the baby let out a bit of a whine, his voice not soothing but rather jarring, apparently. No reason to wake her back up. "Daddy's sorry."

When Steph came back, she had her filthy beast of a dog with her, of course, the mutt jumping up on the end of the bed as Steph came to rest beside her husband.

"So," she asked as he only stared blankly over at her. "You gonna ask me how my day was? Really? Now?"

Tsking, he said, "You sure need a lot of confirmation constantly that I actually care about your life."

"Uh, maybe because you make statements like that so often?"

"You got me there."

"So-"

"Stephie, my love, the light of my life-"

"Okay, I'm getting this undertone of sarcasm-"

"You should. It's there."

"Paul-"

"How was your day, baby?"

"Well," Steph said with a bit of a breath. "It was actually pretty boring. Thank you for asking."

"Stephanie, you cannot be serious."

"I just wanted you to ask."

"You better not be influencing my baby in your womanly ways," he grumbled, gently stroking the back of Aurora's head. "Tricky."

"Womanly ways?"

"You heard me."

Making a face over at him, she reached out to, her hand pushing his away, wanting to be the one then to tickle her daughter's hair. "Why isn't she in her crib anyways?"

"Uh, gee, Stephie, because she wanted me? And cries if I'm not around?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she said, "Silly me."

"Look at my baby. She's so smart." Paul beamed then, tilting his head down to stare at his daughter. "Sleepin' on my perfectly chiseled abs-"

"Your what now?"

"-instead of my unbearable chest. It's impossible to sleep up there. She knows this. She's an experienced sleeper. She's done it all her life, Steph." Looking back at his wife, he said, "Abs over chest. Only Rora would figure that one out."

Her hand falling to her daughter's back then, Stephanie patted it once before reaching out to poke at Paul's apparently uncomfortable chest. "You," she accused as he only stared, "have got to find something else to do with your days."

"That was quality material right there."

"You're hardly interesting to me anymore, babe. And you know that I'm practically obsessed with you."

"Practically?"

"It's becoming, like, when the marriage falls apart because the wife stays at home with the newborn baby and becomes horrible company."

Blinking, he asked, "Then what happens?"

"I dunno. The guy probably goes out and has an affair."

"If this your way of telling me that you're leaving me-"

"Obsessed."

"-I want to remind you that not only would I get the baby because I'm not a McMahon and therefore actually competent-"

"Shut up."

"-but I'm also out of work right now," he went on. "So your cute little butt will be paying alimony out of the wazoo."

"Out the what?"

"You heard me."

"This is why Daddy told me to get a prenup."

"And this is exactly why I said we shouldn't. Take my slice of this damn fortune? Fuck no. I-"

"Okay, no cursing." Steph's voice lost some play as she reminded this and Paul only snorted.

"She's sleeping."

"I don't care. It's a bad habit to start."

They both fell silent then, Stephanie still stroking her daughter's back and Paul mostly shifting his foot a bit more each time Bluto, who was at the end of the bed, moved his big, drooling head closer to it.

"If you did have an affair," Paul remarked after a few minutes, "just know that I'd go out and have a bigger and way better one than you, so you might as well just not, because I'd still win."

Crumpling up her nose, Stephanie said, "Bigger and better way of losing your job, you mean?"

"Can you even legally fire me now? Can anyone? Can't I sue you guys if you do? Or something? Since it would obviously be because you realized you just weren't good enough for me?"

"You definitely got that part backwards, bub."

"Bub?"

"That's right, bub."

"Not even bubba?"

"Na-ah."

"Bub."

"Uh-huh."

"You're sitting over here getting on me, Steph, and damn," he remarked. "You gotta be the lamest person I know."

"Yeah, but I'm always been lame. It's what endears you to me."

"Is that what does it?"

"Mmmhmm. You gotta take care of me. Make sure the world doesn't break my spirit."

"You sell your mean streak short."

"I'm just so sweet and innocent."

"Is that right?"

"Completely."

"Wait til I tell the guys down at the company. They've just been reading you wrong. You're innocent and sweet."

"Sweet and innocent, rather, but sure."

"What difference-"

"And they'd already know that, so why waste your time?"

His head fell tot he side as he stared at her. "Wanna share my music? Or is it too treacherous to your innocent ears?"

Shifting closer, Stephanie reached over to snatch the free earphone. "I mean, I have to be tarnished eventually."

"Now my baby here, she loves my music."

"Better not be turning her into a little satanist."

"Being part McMahon, if that was the worst thing she turned out to be, I think we'd chalk that up to a win."

"You sure aren't sold on my family today."

"Never have been. Just wanted this out of it."

"This?"

He tapped a finger against Aurora's head lightly, as not to disturb her. "This."

Making a face, Stephanie asked, "What about this?"

When she gestured to herself, she only got a shake of the head in reply.

"Never wanted it," he told her. "Other than for this."

Again, he tapped his daughter on the head.

"Maybe I never wanted this," Stephanie remarked as she reached over to pat at his free chest, "then."

"Obsessed, wasn't it? So doubt it."

She knew she was beat. So she changed the subject.

Poking at his side then, she asked, "What did the two of you do today then? Huh?"

"What do you mean what did we do?" he grumbled right back. "I trained the future heir to the throne in the ways of being royalty."

"Is that right?"

"That's completely right."

"She's so lucky then," Stephanie yawned a bit, "to have you as a teacher."

"She's more than lucky. She's blessed. Imagine having me as a father, Stephanie. Imagine it."

"I mean, it would be pretty gross, considering."

"But then," he kept up, ignoring her statement, "imagine being lucky enough to have my angel as a daughter?"

"I kind of don't have to. You know, imagine?"

"Imagine having the most important thing in your life also be the greatest baby of all time?"

"I love this Paul," she remarked then. "The hyperbolic Paul. Is this what I get now? When you don't get a chance to get all of these sentiments out in the ring?"

"This isn't hyperbolic. This is the flat out truth. Gonna teach her everything. And if I'm the greatest thing to ever step into the ring-"

"There it is. Knew we'd get back to it-"

"-how can the person I'm modeling after myself not be?"

"You make great points."

"I am a great point."

"Now you've kinda lost me."

"Don't need ya." Gently, his fingers moved to play with his daughter's hair again. "Now."

"You change diapers and make bottles for a few months and you think you have it all figured out," she complained.

"Was doing it from the beginning."

"As much as me?"

"Parenting is not a competition, Stephanie," he told her simply before, with the best shrug he could give to her from his position, he added, "and thank God for you it's not."

She dropped her jaw and he mimicked the face before, jerking the headphone out of her ear, she tossed it back at him.

"Well, your music is garbage, so there."

"You cut me deep, baby," he assured her with a frown. "It hurts."

"Enough to try and win me back?"

"Tell me how."

"Maybe telling me how today really went." And her hand came over to rest that time on his chest, above their daughter's head. Both were staring each other in the eyes, however. "Paul."

He shifted some then, being cautious of not only his snoozing daughter, but also the dog that was trying hard to nuzzle against his father's feet. Still, he kept eye contact with his wife as he said, "We mostly did nothing. I went to rehab in the morning, came home to take care of the baby. Nothing to it."

"Nothing to it," she repeated softly and he nodded.

"Nothing," he agreed, "to it."

"I just worry about you is all."

It took a lot to make him not roll his eyes, but honestly, he had a lot of practice. He'd been injured many times and, though this was one of his worst, Steph's over attachment to him during that time (which was really saying something considering how into him the woman typically could be) was hardly anything new.

In some ways, he rejected it, but in most, he kind of reveled in it. You were the talk of the locker room for a few days after a massive injury, but the business was cutthroat and eternal. There was no down time. You didn't have a chance to worry about someone else, honestly, when your own job and position were in a pretty frequent flux. Triple H was gone and, though he got some calls or texts occasionally, it was his family that were going to be keeping up with him until he stepped foot in that ring again.

"I know, baby," he assured her. "I'm alright. How could I not be?"

Because he was lonely. She could tell. And felt useless. He'd said as much. Listless. Worried about the future. Could he get back in the ring? Or was he gonna be an office guy now? Nothing at all? He didn't wanna be a stay-at-home dad. Did he? Was he becoming too emotional? He felt like it. Too reserved? He was always reserved but now was he becoming excessive? Was he ignoring Stephanie? Was he jealous of Stephanie? She did still get to go to shows all the time. Did he ask too many questions? Did he answer enough questions? Did he really like eating chicken breasts or had he just convinced himself of this?

Paul had a lot of time to think and a lot of things to think about.

Stephanie, however, only had a few hours a day to tap into all these thoughts and musings. So it was best, she'd found, to cut most of them off before they were able to take full flight. He could do whatever he wanted, once he was healthy again. He was rightfully emotional when emotions were called for. And no, he wasn't too reserved. She might like for him to share more at times, but that didn't mean that he had to. He never ignored her, she also reassured, and she felt very secure in where they were. She liked his questions and that he shared his thoughts with her sometimes and answers weren't necessary when you were only contemplating. And she'd never met someone who didn't like chicken, so that was unlikely.

Which set him up for a breasts joke, the time she answered that one, but honestly, she was just glad to hear him ribbing her again.

Things were dark, those first few days after surgery, but now he seemed to be pretty accepting of his role. Perhaps not in love with it and definitely fearful of how or when it would change, but that was alright. She could deal with love and fear because, at their roots, both still had hope.

That was the most important key.

In most things, honestly.

"Just as long as you're okay," she sighed as, shoving up from the bed then, she did pause to lean down to give him a kiss and only him that time. "You ready for dinner?"

"Whenever you are."

Giggling, she left them then, her dog, baby, and husband, off to get the meal ready for them. Paul looked after her, but Aurora didn't wake and Bluto was too lazy to follow the woman once more.

It was just the three of them again.

Glancing down at his two cohorts, Paul smiled a bit before shutting his eyes and letting out a long sigh.

It had been a long few months. And would be longer still. He didn't feel as great in that moment, as he'd tried to leave his wife to believe (she didn't), but one thing was true. He did still get his baby there with him. All the time. Not a lot of guys got that, up at work. Not a lot of them wanted it. But he had. And now he had it.

Couldn't hate that too much.

"She woke up, Steph," he sighed as he came downstairs to join his wife in the kitchen, leaving the mastiff behind but taking the whiny baby along with him. "And I think she's getting tired of me."

"No way," the woman assured him as he came over to where she was by the stove, so that their crying daughter could see that, yes, her mother had come home and no, she wasn't stuck with the fuzzy grouch any longer. "Not you."

"Is it though? Rora?" He bounced her gently in his arm as she only reached for her mother. "Me? Or you just love Steph that much? Could it be that?" When the woman finally was able to turn from the stove and take the baby from him, Paul grinned fully and said, "Had to be that. How could it not be?"

Stephanie was giggling and grinning at him as she held their daughter to her and he grinned back because, yeah, life sucked, like, the majority of the time, but moments like that? Like he was having? Made it worth it.

Whether he found his way back to the ring or not, what he'd joked about with Steph earlier still stood true. He'd already gotten all he'd wanted out of it from that point.

Everything else was just gravy.


End file.
